


Avengers Assemble

by freudensteins_monster



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, MCU Time Line? What MCU Time Line?, Other, and i mention carol, but bucky is a little more ca:cw, mostly pre-ultron, there is a conversation about an asshole trying to take advantage of a drunk Darcy, while there's no real rape/non-con references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: The Avengers assemble to help out their favourite lab assistant.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis & Avengers Team
Comments: 32
Kudos: 221





	Avengers Assemble

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post: https://incadinkadoo.tumblr.com/post/162277900640/avengerspreferencesimagines-abrandnewtomorrow
> 
> I FINISHED A WIP!!!! I started this fic in June 2017, completely forgot about it, and then, out of nowhere, I ended up writing about 70% of damn thing in 24hrs. HOLY. CRAP.

Tony was the first to notice that something was up with Darcy, though he didn’t understand what it meant at the time. He’d wandered out of his lab at a little after three in the morning and registered a humanoid shape curled up on the couch in Lab 7. A closer inspection revealed a mess of brown hair spilling out from under a purple coat, and he just figured Darcy had decided to crash at the tower after a long night sciencing with Jane and wanted to avoid a commute cutting into time better spent asleep. Not something she’d ever done before (she usually crashed on the couch in Jane and Thor’s apartment a few floors down) but he wasn’t exactly in a position to comment on other people's life choices, so just left her to it. Though he did place a wake up call with JARVIS on her behalf so she had a chance to get cleaned up before the first scientists showed up in a few hours. Never let it be said that he wasn’t a benevolent overlord.

Clint was the first to notice that something was terribly amiss, though it took him until he finished his first pot of coffee to figure it out. To be fair to the archer, he had only just stumbled out of bed following a solid twelve hour post-mission nap; people in comas slept lighter. Regardless, Natasha was going to kick his ass for being so off his game if she found out. ...when she found out.

He stared into the empty glass carafe pondering the futility of existence and why his coffee tasted off. True, he was no connoisseur and would drink anything as long as it was hot and black, or even lukewarm and black, but there was something off about this particular pot of coffee, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that insisted that some key flavour profile was missing…

“Donuts,” he mumbled groggily, wandering around the kitchen island in sweats and a grubby t-shirt, scouring the countertops as if a large white box of cinnamon-covered goodness could somehow be hiding in plain sight. “JARVIS,” he called out when his thorough search failed to yield any donuts. 

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“It’s Friday, right?”

“Friday the 12th to be precise.”

“Huh…”

“Is everything alright, Agent Barton? Have you lost time? Should I call for medical assistance?”

“No, nothing like that JARVIS. But, um, did Darcy call out sick today?”

“Miss Lewis arrived at the tower at 12:16am this morning, and has been working at her desk since 7:53am.”

“What? Why?” Clint demanded.

“She did not tell me, and I had no grounds on which to ask. Her security clearance allows her access to Doctor Foster’s laboratory 24hrs a day.”

“Right…” Clint mused. It wasn’t implausible that Darcy was working weird hours, and yet… “Was Foster in the labs with Darcy all night?”

“Doctor Foster returned to her suite at a very reasonable 9:26pm and returned to the laboratory floor at 8:04am.”

Clint’s brow crinkled in thought as he waited for the carafe to refill, considering all possible reasons for the change in Darcy’s routine but, call him a pessimist, none of them were good. He worked through his second pot of coffee while he showered and dressed, returning the empty carafe to the kitchen before seeking Darcy out.

When he reached the lab floor and saw Darcy sitting in front of her computer, her heavy-handed makeup reminding him uncomfortably of his mother. He tried to ignore the coil of anxiety in his belly, smiling as he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“Morning Darcy-Lou.”

Darcy flinched at his overly cheerful greeting and the coil in his gut snapped from the tension.

“Hey Clint,” she replied shakily, keeping her eyes glued to her screen. “What brings you up here?”

“Well, it’s Friday and I couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of baked goods in the kitchen,” he teased, studying her every move.

“I didn’t have time,” Darcy snapped.

“Whoa, it’s cool,” Clint put his hands up in surrender. “You don’t owe us donuts, it’s just that it’s a break in your routine and it makes my spy senses go all tingly. Everything alright?” he asked kindly, noting the way she refused to meet his gaze.

“I’m fine,” Darcy replied with an edge of forced cheerfulness. Clint fake-smiled back.

“Alright, well, I can’t stop thinking about donuts so I’m going to head down to the bakery on the corner and grab a box. You want me to bring you back anything?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine,” she repeated absently, fixing her gaze back on her screen.

“See you ‘round, Darcy-Lou,” Clint waved as he headed to the bank of elevators. His smile faded away as the doors closed and he asked JARVIS to take him to the nearest Security office.

Jane was the first to get the truth from Darcy, if you didn’t count Clint reading their lips off the security feed.

“Shit!” Darcy muttered and threw her phone down in disgust.

The sound broke Jane’s train of thought. She blinked for the first time in twenty minutes and registered the complete and utter absence of background noise.

“Darcy…” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re not playing music,” Jane, she of three degrees, finally noticed at 11am.

“Um, no. I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“Then why aren’t you playing your ‘Super Chill’ playlist? You always play music.”

“I guess I didn't feel like it.”

“Are you sick?”

Jane rushed over and placed a hand on Darcy's forehead so forcibly it gave her assistant whiplash. Darcy tried to squirm out of Jane’s grasp and when the astrophysicist’s hand brushed against her cheek she winced.

“Darcy!”

“I’m fine, Jane,” Darcy swore, turning her bruised face away.

“You’re not fine,” Jane replied, twisting Darcy’s office chair around until she had to face her. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Darcy grumbled stubbornly.

Jane knelt down in front of her best friend, clasping her hands tightly. 

“Please tell me what happened, Darcy. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help…” Darcy started, tearing up. 

“Are you sure? What about Thor? Or me, Thor, and a puppy?”

That got a watery chuckle. “I wouldn’t say no to a puppy.” Jane stayed where she was, eyes growing cartoonishly large as she implored her friend to open up. Darcy relented with a sigh. “You know how my roommate practically moved her boyfriend in without running it past me first?”

“I vaguely recall you complaining about him for three days straight last month.”

“Yeah, well, it hadn’t been too bad. I’m hardly ever there and when I am they pretty much stay holed up in her bedroom, so it’s been whatever. But my roommate has been away for most of the week for some work conference and has left her boyfriend behind unsupervised.”

“What did he do?” Jane asked, trying to keep her tone even and not let her imagination wander into dark corners. 

“First he was just obnoxious, taking over the living room, playing Call of Duty until four in the morning, leaving empty takeout containers everywhere. And then…” she sniffled.

“And then…”

“He started hitting on me. Just straight up eggplant emoji level of subtlety, you know. I said no, obviously. Told him to back off or I’d tell his girlfriend. That seemed to work; he went back to inconsiderate roommate mode. But I didn’t want to be alone with him any more than I had to be so I called up some girlfriends from college and we went out for drinks last night. It was Ladies Night at my favourite bar; half price margaritas. And maybe I had too many drinks for a work night...”

“Darcy,” Jane interjected. “What happened when you got home?”

“He was still up playing Call of Duty. The second he saw me stumbling towards the kitchen for a glass of water he started circling me like a vulture. He got handsy, tried to herd me towards the couch.”

“Please tell me you tased him,” Jane begged.

To her relief Darcy nodded. “And then I just ran. The next thing I knew I was on the train headed for Manhattan so I came back here. I crashed on the couch and JARVIS woke me up when it was time to start work.”

Jane processed Darcy’s story, but there was a detail missing. “How did you get that bruise on your face, Darce?”

“He... kinda slapped me.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, he was trying to grab me, and then he was flailing about from 50,000 volts to the chest, and I was still within arms reach so I caught a fist to the face. It wasn’t like he punched me on purpose or anything.”

“No, of course not. He only tried to force himself on you while you were drunk.” 

“Yeah, that,” Darcy sniffled miserably.

“Did you tell your roommate what happened? Is she going to kick him out?”

Darcy laughed, short and cold. “I hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but he must have called her last night as soon as he stopped twitching. I had a text waiting for me when I woke up saying she wanted me gone by the time she got back tomorrow. Apparently in his version of events my drunk ass hit on him and got violent when he, honest and faithful boyfriend that he is, turned me down.” Darcy to swipe irritably at her wet cheeks and blow her nose. “So I’ve spent all morning trying to find a new place, and the last hour texting this asshole, trying to get him the fuck out of the apartment so I can go get my stuff, but he’s demanding a face to face. Says he’s sorry and wants to apologise, but more likely he just wants to make sure I’m not going to correct his story. … I can’t be alone with him, Jane,” she cried anew.

“And you won’t have to be,” Jane swore handing her another tissue. Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by her name flashing in large, bright blue letters on a holographic whiteboard on the other side of the lab.

JANE

TAKE DARCY TO LUNCH

WE’LL HANDLE IT

\- CLINT

Jane quickly sent a grateful smile to the nearest security camera before turning her attention back to Darcy. 

“Hey, how about we forget about that asshole for a couple of hours. We’ll grab something to eat then come back here and figure out a plan of attack, okay? I’m not going to let you do this alone,” she promised, standing up and offering up a rare hug that Darcy was all too happy to accept.

“Thanks, Janie.” 

They grabbed their bags and headed for the elevator bank arm in arm. “So, where do you want to go for lunch?” Darcy asked.

“How about Sadelles? I think today calls for matzo ball soup like bubbe used to make.”

“And bagels.”

“And Bloody Marys.”

“And a double cheeseburger,” Darcy sighed hungrily. 

“Whatever you want,” Jane laughed as the doors to Elevator 1 closed behind them..

A few floors away the doors to Elevator 2 opened onto the communal Avengers floor and Clint stepped out into a room full of antsy superheroes. Tony was seated at the nearest table sucking down on some radioactive looking smoothie while Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Thor were standing at half-assed attention awaiting orders.

“Since when are you calling Assembles?” Steve queried casually, not at all paranoid that he was being kept out of the loop on something important.

“Yeah, and since when do we do mission briefings in the breakfast nook?” Tony asked.

“Darcy needs our help,” Clint announced, pausing long enough for everyone to get the wrong idea.

“Where is she?” Thor boomed. “Is Jane with her?”

“Who’s got her?” Bucky demanded, already unsheathing one of the innumerable knives on his person.

“Whoa! Everyone, stand down. Jane and Darcy are fine. They’ve gone to lunch.”

The silence was deafening.

“So… they need help paying the tab? Because I’m pretty sure I already do that.” Tony snarked. 

“No, listen,” Clint tried to explain over five riled up superjerks. “Long story short: Darcy’s roommate’s out of town, her boyfriend stayed behind and he’s been making Darcy uncomfortable, to say the least. Last night Darcy came home drunk and he tried to take advantage of the situation. She tasered him and came here.”

“Shit,” Tony mumbled. “I was wondering why I found her crashed out on the lab couch at 3am. I just thought she had Jane had pulled an all nighter or something.”

“Is she okay?” Steve asked.

“She’s mostly rattled, a little bruised, and by the time she gets back from lunch I think she’s going to move onto being plain furious. She wants to get the hell out of that apartment but the guy’s refusing to leave, practically holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk to him.”

“Like hell she’s going back there,” Sam swore. “What’s the address?”

Clint smiled as the rest of the assembled Avengers quickly got on the same page. Tony rose from his seat, tapping away on his phone.

“JARVIS has called up a couple of cars for you and plugged Darcy’s address into the GPS. One of the maintenance guys should meet you down there with some moving boxes.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’m going to attack this from a different angle,” he replied cryptically, leading the way to the elevators.

Half an hour later two large black SUVs pulled up out the front of an apartment building in Brooklyn and 60% of the Avengers current lineup got out. They ignored the curious stares and frantic fumbling for phones going on around them and headed up to Darcy’s apartment, arguing amongst themselves about the best approach. In the end Sam, declaring himself the most normal human and least well-known of the group took the lead, insisting the others stay out of sight while he tried the two rational adults approach, where one of the adults totally doesn’t want to kick the other adult’s ass. It was not his most believable performance.

“Hey man, I’m Sam,” he greeted gruffly when the door finally opened, his intimidating-outside-of-the-Avengers arms crossed over his impressive-outside-of-the-Avengers chest. “Darcy sent me to pick up her stuff.”

The door was slammed in his face and Clint shoved his way to the front of the line.

“C’mon asshole,” he called, banging on the door. “Let us grab Darcy’s things and we’ll get out of your hair.”

The asshole in question yanked the door open and, not that he knew it at that moment, cursed out a couple of Avengers. “If the bitch wants her stuff back she can damn well come and get it herself and stop sending wannabe gym rats to do her dirty work.”

“Gym rats?” Clint’s much-broken nose tried to wrinkle in confusion.

“Enough of these games,” Thor growled, pushing Sam, Clint, and the door out of the way.

“What the hell!” the asshole squealed as broken shards of the door and a 7ft tall Norse god came at him with avengence..

“You dare to tarnish Lady Darcy’s honour? To lay your unworthy hands upon her?!” he roared, stopping just short of grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the wall. Humans were rather fragile, or so he was often reminded. 

“What… what… who?” the asshole stuttered, his mind on the fasttrack to a psychotic break as the rest of the Avengers followed Thor into the apartment.

“You hurt Darcy, we hurt you,” Bucky translated, taking up sentry duty by the broken door in case the asshole tried to make a run for it. 

Sam and Steve glared at the asshole on their way to Darcy’s bedroom (Clint had pointed it out, having been there once before when he’d been bribed into help Darcy move in almost a year ago) while Clint headed for the kitchen. Thor thought the best use of his time was to remain looming over the guy until he wet himself. 

“Ooh! Cranberry Kitchenaid. Definitely Darcy’s. She wouldn’t shut up about this thing,” Clint mused to himself as he boxed it, and all novelty baking and cookware items he could find, up.

Thor soon got bored and wandered around the small living area. “Does this belong to Lady Darcy?” he enquired, lifting up a three seater couch like it weighed nothing. 

“Don’t think so.”

Thor dropped it from three feet up and took no small amount of pleasure in the way the asshole flinched.

“What the hell…” he muttered to himself several times before finding his voice. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!”

“1. Not your apartment. 2. We told you: we’re here to get Darcy’s stuff, since you were being an asshole about it.”

“But… you’re the Avengers.”

“Yeah, and we’re here to grab Darcy’s stuff and put the fear of Norse gods into you. Keep up,” Clint replied, turning his attention to the contents of the refrigerator now that he had collected everything from the kitchen cupboards that seemed like it belonged to Darcy (shot glasses from a bar in New Mexico, a Culver U coffee mug, a collection rainbow-handled utensils…).

“But you’re the Avengers.”

“…did you seriously not know that Lewis was besties with Thor? Lewis. Darcy Lewis,” Clint clarified when he received only a blank, stunned stare in reply. “Jesus H Christ… You’ve seriously never even had a conversation with her, have you?” Clint spat, abandoning his hastily assembled sandwich in disgust only to pick it back and continue eating; it wasn’t the sandwich’s fault.

“What about this television?” Thor asked, ripping the thing right out of the wall.

After a pointed moment Bucky voted, “Leave it. Stark’ll buy her a better one.”

“Everything okay out here?” Sam asked, regarding Thor’s attempt to remount the TV into the recently made hole in the wall with feigned disinterest.

“All good.”

“You gonna make yourself useful, Barnes?” Sam griped, dragging a suitcase crammed full of Darcy’s wardrobe contents towards the door.

“I am being useful,” Bucky countered, pulling a whetstone from his tac suit and glaring at the asshole as he slowly dragged his favourite knife across it.

“Real helpful,” Sam muttered, heading back to the bedroom.

Clint finished off his sandwich and had a quick look around the shared bathroom. He nabbed a few of the products that looked expensive and/or smelled like Darcy, but everything else looked easily replaceable. He added the bottles to his kitchen box and called out to the rest of the team, “We done yet?”

“Almost,” Steve called back, tossing another huge suitcase from the depths of the bedroom to Thor who caught it easily. He followed Sam out, carrying two boxes to Sam’s three, who was struggling under the weight of Darcy’s innumerable books and assorted knickknacks but refused to admit within earshot of Bucky that he needed help. Steve passed off his boxes to Bucky and indicated that the rest of the team should head out. Bucky grabbed the second suitcase and tucked it under his metal arm, beaming obnoxiously at Sam as he passed him in the hallway.

Steve meanwhile made his way over to where the asshole was still cowering against the wall. “I know it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway: you contact Darcy again, you so much as breathe in her direction, I will have my friend Carol take you into outer space, except she doesn’t use a spaceship, and we see how long it takes for your head to explode. ...Got it?”

“Captain America is threatening me?”

Steve gave the asshole his patented USO smile, “Yeah, but no one would ever believe you.”

The asshole could only nod mutely as Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, exited the apartment and closed what was left of the door behind him. Two seconds later his cell phone rang. He was still in shock and couldn’t remember answering it, but the next thing he knew his phone was on speaker and someone was addressing him.

“Is this the asshole currently trembling in Apartment 4C?” 

“Uhhh…” the asshole’s brain flatlined as the man on the other end of the phone rattled off information that could only have been obtained through a very thorough background check.

“... the asshole whose Social Security Number is 498619842? The asshole who got busted for pot possession in 2015 and 2017? The guy who spent the night of his 15th birthday buying several porn subscriptions on his mother's credit card then let her think that some stranger had stolen it and racked up the charges?”

A very, _very_ thorough background check.  


“This is Tony Stark. Just a courtesy call to let you know that I now own the apartment you’re currently squatting in. Actually, I own the whole building. And my people have already been in contact with your girlfriend and advised her of a little clause that I’ve added to the lease: if she wants to resign next month, you are not allowed to live with her - and I  will know if she violates the terms of her lease. So that’ll be a fun conversation for you. But I’m sure you’ll be fine. I mean, what woman in her right mind would choose a cheap, rent controlled, fully renovated apartment in New York City over a cheating boyfriend slash burgeoning rapist?”

The call disconnected around the same time the asshole’s legs gave out and he became a puddle of terrified goo on the floor.

Darcy returned to the tower after an epic two hour lunch date with Jane feeling much better about the last twelve and a bit hours, and was ready to hand the asshole his ass. But with Jane coming back to the apartment with her after work, distracting him with the kind of vitriol she usually reserved for old white men who were tightfisted with university grant money, Darcy was confident she should be able to get in and out without too many hassles (or assault charges).

“82nd floor, if you please JARVIS,” Darcy instructed as they stepped into the elevator. 

“If you’ll indulge me, Miss Lewis, I’ve been instructed to take you to the 54th floor.”

“That’s one of the residential floors,” Jane realised. “Isn’t that floor still under construction?”

Before JARVIS could answer the elevator doors opened to an impatient Tony Stark.

“Minions, follow me.”

“What’s going on, Tony?” Darcy demanded as her boss’s boss led them through a bare hallway painted base coat white.

“Heard you were in need of a place to crash, so I thought I’d give you an apartment.”

Before either of them could determine how much Tony knew, and how he knew it, he stopped in front of a seemingly random door and threw it open.

**_“Surprise!!”_ **

“What the fuck!” Darcy shouted, not that she could hear herself over the carousing of half the Avengers line up. “What the fuck?” she repeated when the noise died down. 

“Well, Clint here gave us a quick rundown of what happened - we’re glad you’re alright, by the way.”

“But how did you know?”

“Donuts,” Clint teased, earning confusing glances from everyone not in on the joke. “Well, donuts and security cameras.”

“Clint sent me a message on one of Tony’s hi tech whiteboards while I was talking to you,” Jane admitted. “He told me to take you to lunch but I had no idea they were going to do this.” 

“But what  _ is  _ all this?”

“This is your stuff,” Clint grinned doing his best Vanna White at the small collection of boxes and suitcases.”

“We paid the scoundrel a visit he won’t soon forget and liberated your belongings so you needn’t see him again.”

“We pretty much cleaned out your bedroom, but left the furniture. Sam said it was all just IKEA stuff so it probably didn’t hold much sentimental value,” Steve explained.

“It didn’t,” Darcy assured him, almost moved to tears by their actions.

“So, I know this place looks pretty bleak right now, but I promise it’s liveable - water and power have been hooked up, and I’ve got a basic bed being delivered in the next hour or so you don’t have to sleep on the floor. And Pepper will be in touch sometime this afternoon to set up a meeting with her interior designer so you can Darcy it up however you like on my dime. Aaaand you look like you’re going to hug me so I’m going to leave now.”

Darcy laughed at Tony’s retreating back before redirecting her attention and affection on the rest of her personal heroes. “Thank you guys so much. I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”

“You’re more than welcome, Darcy-Lou,” Clint replied, going in for a hug. He squeezed her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before making way for the next guy in line.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Darcy. If we left anything important behind just let me know. I’d be happy to pay him another visit.”

“I’m sure you would, Cap. Thank you.”

Bucky shuffled forward. “Darcy.”

“Bucky.”

“We didn’t much like the idea of leaving you down here by yourself, so to make you feel a bit safer at night, or maybe not,” he mumbled, hiding behind his hair. “I’m gonna move down into the room across the hall. At least until they finish up on this floor and start getting other people in here.”

Darcy’s arms were thrown around his neck before he could finish.

“Thank you.”

_ Hug her back, you idiot _ , Sam mouthed, choking on his laughter when Bucky awkwardly patted her on the back. He pushed Bucky out of the way and showed him what a hug was supposed to look like. “And if you want to hit the clubs and you want some added security…” he proposed with a little shimmy that pulled a laugh from Darcy and Steve (Bucky just rolled his eyes). 

“I know who to call.”

“We’ll leave you to it - and see you at dinner, right?” Sam called back as the three musketeers headed for the elevators. 

“Absolutely!”

And then it was just Thor and Jane, both of them regarding her with kind smiles and sad eyes.

“I am sorry he harmed you, Darcy. One word from you and I will throw him in the deepest, darkest cell on Asgard until he rots.”

“Thanks big guy. But you’ve done more than enough.”

“So… what now?” Jane asked, reaching for Thor’s hand. “Did you want to come back down to the labs until your bed gets here?”

“I think I’ll check out my new digs for a bit. Maybe rummage through the boxes and see what the guys managed to grab for me and make a list of what I need to replace....”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“I’m going to be fine, Janey,” Darcy replied, smiling to herself when it occurred to her just how true those words were. She was going to be fine.

[Post Credit Scene]

As it turned out, Tony’s idea of a “basic” bed was a king sized mattress and base - which none of Darcy’s current bedding fit. 

Pepper and her favourite interior designer had been and gone, dinner was another hour away, and Darcy was doing her best to make up her new bed regardless of her ill fitting sheets, figuring if worse came to worst she’d just roll herself up like a burrito, when there was a knock at her new front door.

“Nat! When did you get in?” 

“About two hours ago,” she replied, pushing past Darcy with a moving box balanced on her hip. “Clint told me what happened.”

“Oh no,” Darcy sighed, eying the box warily. “What did you do? Is he…you know...”

“Still breathing? Still in possession of all his limbs and both his testicles?” 

“Yeah, those things.”

“Reluctantly. You could have called me,” she added quietly. 

“You were on a mission,” Darcy shrugged. “And I kind of wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Well, thank goodness Clint knows when to leave well alone and when to go at a problem like a dog with a bone.”

“You taught him well,” Darcy teased, which earned a small snort of amusement from the Black Widow. “Now, not to sound like Brad Pitt but what’s in the box?”

Natasha did a little drumroll on the lid of the box before pulling back the flaps. “I have… every roll of toilet paper in the apartment and half a dozen shoelaces - one from every pair of shoes he owns.”

“Is that all? Not that it’s not amazing,” she giggled. “But it seems kinda… small potatoes for a talented spysassin like yourself.”

“I may have also added a minced ghost pepper to his aftershave. And infected all of his devices with this special little virus that will crash his games just before he reaches a save point.”

“Oh my god, that’s devious! I love it!”

“You’re welcome,” she smirked. “And since that only took me like fifteen minutes after the world's shortest debriefing I had time to stop off on the way back for some of your favourite rotgut in case you were interested in a nightcap,” she announced, pulling a bottle of tequila from the box.

“Jose Cuervo isn’t not rotgut… But I’m kinda off the tequila at the moment,” Darcy admitted quietly.

“Well, luckily for you, I also picked up a bottle of my favourite rotgut,” she smiled, presenting Darcy with a bottle of unpronounceable, high proof vodka.

Darcy laughed and reached for the tacky shot glasses Clint had rescued from her old apartment and let Natasha do the honors. 

“Hey, do you have any missions on the horizon?” Darcy spluttered after the first shot.

“Nothing planned, why?”

“Pepper’s interior designer reckons she can have my apartment fully painted and furnished by this time next week. I was thinking I might host a little family dinner. Sort of a housewarming slash thanks for having my back party? I’ll bake that coffee chocolate cake Clint loves and put in orders with like, four of the team's favourite takeout places...”

“I’m in. As long as I get to be on cocktails,” Nat said as she poured another round.

Darcy clinked their glasses together with a smile. “Deal.”


End file.
